What I Saw When My Father Stepped Out of the Shower Changed Everything

In my house, it was my mother, my father, and me, since I’m an only child. They both worked shifts at a packaging plant, and whenever they could, they arranged their schedules so they wouldn’t overlap, so that one of them would be home with me. They did it when I was a child and, although I was already twenty-one, they still did it out of habit.

The apartment was small: two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, a living room, and a single bathroom we all shared. That bathroom was the key pressure point of living together. First thing in the morning, it was normal for two of us to be in there at once, one showering and the other washing their face or combing their hair in the mirror.

Luckily, it was spacious. The toilet was tucked away in a little alcove, and there was plenty of room between the sink and the shower to dry off without getting in the way of whoever was shaving. Even so, we all tried to be as modest as possible and look at one another as little as necessary.

With my mother, I never had any problem. Since we were both women, we didn’t do anything to avoid each other; we were used to seeing each other naked and even helped one another put cream on our backs. My parents didn’t feel awkward with each other either, naturally. The only delicate crossing point was when my father and I happened to be there at the same time, and that had become more tense since I stopped being a kid.

So until recently, the two of us had tried not to run into each other in the bathroom unless it was unavoidable.

I say “until recently” because, over the last few days, we’d been doing exactly the opposite. As if we’d agreed on it without saying a word, we’d not only stopped avoiding each other, but were both looking for any excuse to end up there at the same time, especially when we were alone in the house.

For me, everything changed one afternoon when I went in to leave some clean towels and found him coming out of the shower, completely naked. It was only a few seconds: I dropped the towels, apologized, and bolted. But in those seconds, I couldn’t help staring at him.

Even though it was at rest, what I saw seemed enormous to me, enough to catch my attention. I saw the thick mass of dark hair and, hanging beneath it, a fat, heavy cock, with his balls swollen from the heat of the shower. That image lodged in my head and left me feeling a mix of shame and arousal, and it was that arousal that awakened in me the need to see it again, this time calmly.

So I started taking advantage of every time he went in to shower. As soon as I stopped hearing the water, I’d invent some excuse to go in and try to catch him naked. The first few times, he covered himself instinctively and I didn’t get to see much.

But by the third time, he must have put two and two together. It was too much of a coincidence that I always showed up right when he was finishing. That day he didn’t cover himself: he kept drying his face with the towel, leaving everything on display. And the situation must have turned him on too, because his cock wasn’t fully soft: it hung swollen, thick, beginning to rise. I got so nervous that I only looked at his dick for a moment before running off, but it was enough to confirm that he was very well endowed and that I had gotten my cunt wet just from seeing him.

That was the turning point. I decided that next time I wouldn’t hold back: I’d look at his cock for as long as I needed to. And he, for his part, must have thought something similar, because the next morning, when I went in the same way, he was waiting for me. Standing in front of the mirror, completely hard, with his stiff cock pointing upward, pressed against his belly.

I’d gone in determined, but seeing him like that almost made me turn and run all the same. In a matter of seconds I understood that if he was with that erection, it wasn’t by chance. That stopped me. I stood there staring at him, mouth slightly open, startled.

It was huge. A thick cock, marked by a vein running along its length, and the head uncovered, shiny, swollen and purple, with a drop of liquid beading at the tip. His balls were taut, high, pressed against his body. For a moment I stopped looking lower and searched his face.

He was watching me with a half-smile, pleased that I was doing exactly what he had expected. Neither of us moved. He made no gesture at all to cover himself or turn away. In the end I reacted, apologized as always, and left the bathroom with my pulse racing and my panties soaked through.

My head was a mess. What I had just seen had genuinely shocked me. I had been with three guys in my life and none of them had a cock anything like his, not even close, or at least that’s what my horny mind was telling me at that moment.

I’m thinking about my father as if I want to eat him up.

And that was where I stopped cold. He was my father. I told myself that under no circumstances could anything happen between us, and that he would not want to fuck his daughter either. I convinced myself it had only been curiosity on both sides, some kind of slightly extreme game, but a game all the same.

It didn’t take long for me to discover how dangerous it is to play with fire.

***

Yes, he was my father and I was his daughter, but we were also a man and a woman. It was three in the afternoon on a sweltering summer day, my mother was on shift until ten at night, and we would be alone for hours. All those circumstances made what happened possible.

The heat made it reasonable that he’d showered after lunch. But, looking back, he set a trap for me and I fell into it. At first without fully realizing it; later, as things went on, I played along fully aware of where it was headed.

I was sitting at the living room table, messing around on the laptop, when I saw him come out wearing a pair of lounge shorts and a loose T-shirt. I couldn’t help glancing at his crotch: the bulge of his cock was still there, clearly outlined, hanging heavy under the thin fabric of the shorts. You could even make out the shape of the head. I went on alert.

That’s why I wasn’t surprised when he sat down in front of me at the table, when normally he would have flopped onto the sofa. I knew he wanted to talk.

“Look, sweetheart,” he began. “Can we have an adult conversation?”

“Of course, Dad. We’re both adults, aren’t we? So it’ll be an adult conversation.”

“Good. The question is: did you like what you saw?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling the heat rise in my face.

“I’m talking about what you’ve been trying to see for days and what today I finally let you look at calmly.”

“If I saw it, it’s because you wanted me to. That’s why you were waiting like that, with your cock hard.”

“Of course. I knew you wanted to see it, so I indulged you.”

“Then thanks for satisfying my curiosity,” I replied, trying to sound ironic.

“You’re welcome. And is it like you imagined?”

“No. It’s much bigger than I thought.”

“And does that please you or disgust you?”

“Neither. It surprised me.”

“Don’t be angry at what I’m about to ask. I know you’ve been with a couple of boyfriends, because you tell those things to your mother and she tells me. Did any of them have one as big as mine?”

“What a question, Dad, honestly. I’m your daughter. I talk about those things with Mom, woman to woman.”

“And why not with me? It’s simple curiosity.”

“Fine. Without having seen it up close, I’ll tell you yours seems bigger than any of theirs. Happy?”

“Very. Would you like to see it closer? Even touch it?”

“What are you saying? Dad, I’m your daughter. Have you gone crazy?”

“Don’t get upset. Since you’re telling me you didn’t get a good look at it, I don’t mind showing it to you. We’re comfortable with each other.”

“There are lines a father and daughter shouldn’t cross, no matter how comfortable they are with each other. You know what? I’m going to lie down for a while and rest.”

“All right, sweetheart.”

I got up and shut myself in my room. I was sure he had noticed my face burning and that, under my skirt, my cunt was dripping.

***

The conversation made two things clear to me. The first: he had set the whole thing up to gauge my reaction, because he was considering fucking me. The second, more disturbing: after what I’d seen, I was considering it too. I could no longer push away the desire to touch his cock with my hands, to take it in my mouth, to feel it opening my cunt. And my body confirmed it: I was completely soaked, my panties stuck to my lips, my clit throbbing from the tension of that conversation.

Convinced that he would keep playing his “game,” I understood that now it was up to me to take the step we both expected. So, without hesitation, I stripped completely naked, got into bed, and covered myself with the sheet. Before covering myself, I slid my hand between my legs and checked how wet I was: my fingers came back shiny with slick.

I had already done my part. The rest depended on whether he was in the same mood I thought he was. The first thing was for him to come in. The second, for him to lift the sheet and find me naked. That would be decisive.

And it happened exactly like that.

He came in, walked up to the bed, and with one slow pull lifted the sheet enough to expose me. He stood there, looking me over from head to toe, pausing on my hard tits, my stiff nipples, the triangle of hair between my slightly parted legs. Without saying a word, he took off his T-shirt, pulled down his shorts and underwear in one motion, and his cock sprang free, already hard, thick, pointing at me. He lay down beside me, pressing himself against my back. I was on my side, and without a word he took my hand and brought it to him. I wrapped my fingers around it. It was hard as stone, thick, hot, the skin taut and throbbing against my palm. I could barely fit my fingers around it. My whole body shivered.

I began to move my hand slowly, sliding the skin up and down, feeling how even more tense he got and how the head swelled and let slip a thick drop that ran over my knuckles. He pressed his erection against my ass, seeking me out, rubbing between my cheeks while I kept jerking him off.

He brought his mouth to my ear.

“Do you like this cock, sweetheart?” he whispered, his voice rough.

I swallowed.

“Yes, Dad.”

One of his hands encompassed a breast, squeezing it, finding my nipple with his fingers and pinching it until a gasp escaped me. The other slid down my belly and sank between my legs. When he felt how wet I was, he let out a growl and shoved two fingers into me at once. He started moving them inside while his thumb rubbed my clit in circles.

“You’re soaked, daughter. Really soaked.”

“Yes… yes…”

“Would you like to feel it inside you? Feel your father’s cock buried all the way in?”

With my mouth dry, I answered again, my voice broken:

“Yes. I want it inside. Now.”

That was when he took control. He moved toward the foot of the bed, turned me onto my back, spread my legs, and bent them at the knees, opening me completely. I saw him look at my open cunt before lowering his head. He began to lick me slowly, with his tongue flat, from bottom to top, sucking my lips one by one. Then he pried me open with his fingers and sank his tongue inside me, fucking me with it while his nose brushed my clit. I thrust my hips up against his face, moaning, pressing his head against my cunt.

“Dad, keep going, don’t stop, like that, like that…”

He closed his lips around my clit and started sucking it, tugging at it, while two fingers went in and out of my cunt. It didn’t take long before I came in his mouth, arching my back, squeezing his head with my thighs, screaming without being able to hold back. He took everything, sucking and swallowing my release without pulling away, until I collapsed trembling onto the sheets.

He rose up on his knees between my legs, his mouth shining with my juices and his cock harder than ever, red, throbbing. He took it in his hand and ran it over my lips, rubbing the head against my clit, up and down, until it was completely soaked with me. He spread my legs even wider, fitted the tip to my opening, and pushed in slowly, very slowly, all the way to the hilt. I let out a scream of pure pleasure at feeling him all the way inside me, opening me, filling me in a place no one had ever reached before.

“Fuck, daughter, you’re so tight… what a cunt you’ve got…”

“Fuck me, Dad, fuck me now, please…”

He started moving in that position, first slowly, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back in to the hilt, so I could feel him properly. Little by little he sped up, fucking me hard, making his balls slap against my ass with every thrust. He grabbed my tits with both hands, squeezing them, pinching my nipples until I writhed. I dug my nails into his forearms, crossing my ankles over his back to pull him even closer to me.

Then he leaned forward, crushing me against the bed, and brought his mouth to mine. We kissed deeply, tongue to tongue, panting into each other while he kept driving into me with short, deep thrusts. It was, without question, the best fucking of my life, and the fact that it was him, my father, multiplied everything, drove me crazy.

“Tell me you like it, tell me you like your father fucking you,” he growled in my ear.

“I love it, Dad, I love your cock, fuck me more, harder…”

It was too much. I exploded into a second orgasm, this time with no control at all, shouting things I never would have imagined saying to him: to fuck me like a slut, to fill me, that I was his daughter and belonged to him. Feeling my contractions tightening around his cock inside me, he sped up even more, hammering into me at a brutal pace, the bed banging against the wall.

“I’m going to come, sweetheart,” he said in broken breaths, sweating all over me. “Can I do it inside? Can I come inside my daughter?”

“Yes, Dad, come inside, fill me up completely, I want to feel it…”

Before I’d even finished the sentence I felt the first hot spurts shooting into the depths of my cunt, throbbing inside me. He stayed buried to the hilt, hips tight, emptying himself completely with a long groan that died against my neck. I felt every pulse of his cock releasing semen, one after another, until it spilled over the edges and slid between my cheeks.

When we were done, he collapsed beside me, his cock still dripping onto my thigh, and between gasps he said, half-joking:

“Well, now you’ve seen it up close. More than that: you’ve had the whole thing inside you. Now you’ll be able to compare sizes.”

I played along, laughing, with semen sliding out of my cunt.

“Well, yes. Now I can tell you without any doubt that it’s the biggest cock I’ve had. And that from the first day I caught a glimpse of it, I didn’t stop until I got you to fuck me.”

“I knew it,” he replied. “That’s why I did everything I did. I was sure you wanted it as much as I wanted to put it in you.”

***

We rested for a while, holding each other in silence, feeling the semen slowly leaking out between my thighs, until I turned toward him.

“Hey, one thing. I’ve had it inside me, but seeing it properly, really seeing it, I still haven’t. If you don’t mind, let me look at it up close and taste it a little.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” he said, leaning back against the headboard and opening his legs for me.

I positioned myself between his legs and at last looked at it calmly, a hand’s breadth from my face. There it was, half-soft but still thick, shining with the remnants of our mix, resting against his swollen balls. I took it with both hands, one over the other, and still had length to spare. I started slowly, licking his balls first, one and then the other, sucking them whole and tasting his skin. I moved up the shaft with my tongue, tracing that thick vein from base to head, and gave the tip a wet kiss, sucking the drop that was already beading there again.

My mouth watered. I took it in slowly, swallowing what I could, until I felt the head against the back of my throat. He brushed the hair out of my face so he could watch me better, and that attention only turned me on more. I started bobbing my head up and down, my lips tight around his cock, making noise, smearing saliva on my chin.

I felt it harden again inside my mouth until it was once more like stone. One of his hands closed softly on the back of my neck, not forcing me, just keeping time with me. With the other he caressed my hanging tits, playing with my nipples. I sucked him with focus, looking him in the eyes each time I came up, pulling off him to lick his balls and then sinking him back in until I gagged a little.

“That’s it, daughter, that’s it, suck it… look how well you swallow it…”

I sped up, helping myself with one hand to jerk the base while my mouth worked the head, sucking hard, giving quick little licks underneath, where I knew he’d like it most. With my other hand I fondled his balls, weighing them, feeling them filling again for me.

The thrill of sucking my father’s cock, with his taste mixed with mine filling my mouth, mattered more to me than anything else; I had never felt anything like it with anyone.

When I felt he was about to come by the way his thighs tightened and his cock started throbbing between my lips, I didn’t pull away. On the contrary: I took him all the way in and held there, squeezing the base with my hand while he came with a long groan. I felt the hot spurts splashing against my palate, one after another, thick, abundant. I took it all, every last drop, swallowing everything without letting a single bit fall, still sucking the tip afterward to squeeze out whatever remained.

I sat up slowly, looking him in the eye with a smile, licking my lips.

“I’m not going to tell Mom about this,” I said, still breathing hard.

“That’s for the best,” he answered, chuckling under his breath, pulling me in to lie back down beside him.

We stayed like that, tangled together, with his soft cock resting against my hip and one of his hands lost between my legs, teasing my cunt still dripping with his come, while the afternoon sun filtered through the blinds and the clock moved on at its easy pace. There were hours left before my mother got home. And the two of us knew, without saying it, that this afternoon would not be the last, and that before she walked through the door he would fuck me at least once more.